


Comfort over fashion

by OnlyUnderstandsTrainStation



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Baker!Kurt, Dancing classes, Hospitals, Multi, Slow Build, Writing online, midwife!Blaine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-12-12 10:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11734860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyUnderstandsTrainStation/pseuds/OnlyUnderstandsTrainStation
Summary: Kurt and Blaine meet under unusual circumstances: in a delivery room while Santana's giving birth. It's not love at first sight but they keep meeting and eventually learn to understand each other as friends. And with enough free time on their hand, they decide to take dancing lessons together... strictly platonically, of course.





	1. Nightshift

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first ff. I'm both excited and terrified. I'll try to update as quickly as possible. And last but not least a big thanks to my lovely beta thelobster_29!

Blaine Anderson sat down looking bored. His shift had started 4 hours ago and nothing interesting had happened so far. Even his food was boring, spaghetti with tomato-sauce for the third time this week. He really should make more of an effort because in the end he was the one suffering from his uninspired cooking. His girlfriend Megan should have been suffering as well but they had hardly seen each other the last couple of weeks, so it came down to just him.

According to his research Blaine was one of only three male midwives in New York City. He was used to being an anomaly in his job. Some women even had refused having him to support them during birth, but contractions had always reminded them there were far greater problems ahead of them than a male midwife. Helping women through birth could be quite eventful and messy but Blaine loved his job.  And there was nothing more amusing than a father fainting at the sight of blood.

The bell of the delivery room rang. Hopefully something to do. Blaine went to open the door and was greeted by a gorgeous looking man. Lean figure, legs that went on for days, piercing blue eyes, elegant features, lovely brown hair - just long enough to hold onto while… _so not the time for those kind of thoughts,_ Blaine had to remind himself but he couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over the other man’s body. Being in a relationship didn’t make you immune to other people’s beauty.

‘I mean seriously, who has time to transform themselves into a runway-model at 3 o’clock in the morning with a baby on its way?’ Blaine meant to think.

‘Well, we can’t all look like a grumpy cat who just woke up. This baby’s first glimpses of the world should be pleasant. Otherwise it might refuse to be delivered… Santana would be in labour for hours and that’s my own personal nightmare. ’ In a quieter voice he kept on saying something that sounded like: ‘Lady parts for hours… just my luck that this baby decides to come out on my Santana-watch-time’. He seemed to become more annoyed by the second.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. My name is Blaine Anderson and I’m the midwife on duty. Plus I think grumpy cats are adorable.’ he replied. The other man didn’t smile.

‘Kurt. Kurt Hummel. I’m here with Santana Lopez,’ he introduced himself and pointed at a woman standing behind him.

_Oh,_ Blaine hadn’t even noticed the pained looking woman. Ridiculously good-looking as well, although not even in the same league as her male companion. Blaine couldn’t help watching Kurt and now he became aware of how tightly Kurt’s clothes were clinging to his body. He really wanted to reveal what was underneath them. _‘Stop it’,_ Blaine thought. After all he didn’t get paid to stare at gorgeous men and at the moment there were more pressing matters than his overimaginative libido. He slapped himself mentally, switched into professional mode and started his battery of questions.

‘So, how far along in your pregnancy are you? Has there been anything unusual?’ Blaine asked.

‘It’s my 39th week and before these god damn contractions started everything was perfect,’ Santana answered, her voice getting higher with every word she spoke. She looked angrily at her stomach and hissed: ‘I know I’ll forget this part and will only be able to see how cute you are but there’s absolutely no excuse for these spasms you’re putting me through.’

Blaine waited for her pain to lessen and then continued: ‘When did the contractions start? Has your water already broken? How do you feel, Miss Lopez?’

‘There’s a small melon trying to find its way through my intestines, how do you think I feel?’ Santana snapped.

To his surprise Kurt added: ‘The contractions started six hours ago and are now 5 minutes apart. The doctors told us there was no need to arrive any earlier at the hospital because all we would do is wait and most women prefer doing that at home. So here we are. And no, her water hasn’t broken yet.’

_Maybe Kurt wasn’t as uninvolved as it had seemed at first,_ Blaine thought but just remarked: ‘Wow, you two are either really well informed or it’s not your first baby?’

‘It’s our first child and my partner and I went to childbirth classes to prepare. Why have we been standing here like idiots for the past minutes? I really want to lie down and I have to pee,’ Santana informed us.

Due to peaking hormones and the pain women behaved a little bit… special around the time of birth. Blaine was used to it but he thought it better to finish quickly: ‘I’ll lead you to your room and then I’ll examine you Miss Lopez. Do you want your partner to stay for these procedures?’

_Dear god, please prevent this birth from happening right before my eyes,_ Kurt prayed. It was no use because an angry Santana said: ‘YES goddammit, I need someone to scream at. After all it’s his fault I’m in this state, so it’s only fair for him to be a part of this spectacle.’

_Technically right, but not the truth,_ Kurt thought annoyed. ‘Santana, be reasonable I’m hardly the right person for this. I’ll call someone, anybody else will be better suited than me,’ he tried to defend his case.

‘I lost reason twenty contractions ago and everybody else is out of town, so suck it up Hummel!’, was her only response. Now, that didn’t leave much room to argue and Kurt just gave up.

By now Blaine was really confused. These two hadn’t seemed very coupley to him and a few moments ago he would have sworn that Kurt was gay but now he wasn’t so sure anymore. If Kurt was responsible for Santana’s pregnancy it could have been a drunken mistake. Or against all odds Kurt was straight and they were one of the strangest couples he had ever met. _I mean which father doesn’t want to be present at the birth of his child and uses phrases like ‘lady parts’? Plus Blaine really couldn’t picture him in childbirth classes..._ a pained cry from Santana interrupted Blaines’ thoughts.

‘I’ll take you to the delivery room, it has an en-suite bathroom and right now you’re the only woman giving birth in this hospital, so you’ll have all of my attention.’ he said and led them to their room walking through the sterile hospital corridors. They had been designed as unspectacular as possible, white walls with grey floors and every now and then a badly chosen painting. During his nightshifts (where nobody else was around but you) Blaine had spent hours studying those paintings and trying to find legitimate reasons for hanging them, but he had always come to the same conclusion: the pictures were ugly.

Halfway along their way Santana began to lose her balance and Kurt grabbed one of her arms to steady her walk.  Suddenly there was a splashing sound and a high shriek behind Blaine. He turned around in panic thinking something might have happened to Santana.  But it was Kurt who stood there, horror written all over his face and Santana looking a little bit embarrassed next to him. There was a puddle of amniotic fluids all over the floor and more importantly Kurt’s shoes. He was no expert but he guessed that these were designer shoes and without a doubt quite expensive.

‘I think your water just broke Miss Lopez. It’s all right you can change into some dry clothes in a minute and I’ll get you some towels for those shoes.’ Blaine offered trying to save the situation.

_Dear god, please give me the strength to stay calm,_ Kurt had a feeling this wasn’t the last time he would turn to a higher power on this day, although he generally didn’t believe in non-sense like that. He could have screamed, his favorite Gucci boots were covered not only in water but also blood and something jelly-like which almost made Kurt gag. He was pretty sure his shoes would be ruined forever.

‘Really Santana you couldn’t have waited one minute? Are you deliberately trying to make the worst day of my life even worse?’ Kurt accused her.

‘Do you really think I did that on purpose? Nothing of what happened in the last nine months happened on purpose. This whole pregnancy just took over my body. I don’t even have active control over most of my own body functions anymore. How do you think that feels? Do you honestly believe I wanted my water to break in that moment and feel like I’ve peed myself?’ Santana shouted.

‘Maybe you should have thought of that before getting pregnant!’ Kurt countered.

Total silence.

Blaine stood there in shock as Santana’s eyes started to water. Kurt knew he had gone too far and regretted it instantly. _I shouldn’t be allowed to talk at 3 am, I’m not compatible with the world at this hour._ So he said: ‘I’m so sorry Santana, I don’t know what possessed me to say those awful things. It’s just… I’m really out of my depth here, I’m scared and I feel totally helpless and unprepared. I never expected that I of all people would be the person standing next to you in the delivery room. You have been so brave all through this pregnancy and even now and I really admire you for that. Again, I’m so sorry. If you wanted me to go and get someone else to support you, I’d totally understand.’ Kurt said and hung his head.

‘Kurt, it might be a string of unfortunate coincidences that brought us both here but I actually like the idea of her two biological parents being present at her birth.’ Santana said.

‘Her? It’s a girl?’ Kurt asked, his eyes getting wide in wonder.

‘Yes.’ Santana smiled: ‘I really want you to meet her. But please, you can’t choose to leave halfway through this birth. If you want to leave, it’ll have to be now.’

‘No, I will stay.’ Kurt promised looking her directly in the eyes.

The connection between those two was astounding. They could go from fighting to caring in a millisecond. Again, poor Blaine was confused. So he cleared his throat awkwardly and said: ‘Well shall we get this show on the road then?’


	2. Labour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your Comments, Kudos and Subscriptions... great motivation. Hope you enjoy this Chapter!

They entered the room. It was quite spacious with an enormous bed in the center surrounded by various birthing equipment. In one corner there was a changing table already set with diapers, jumpers and washcloths and in the other one stood a huge bathtub or rather a small swimming pool.

Everything in the delivery room was kept in red, orange or yellow. Warm colours – Blaine had always been under the impression that people decided on this scheme, because that’s what they imagined the inside of a womb to look like. To a baby the outside world was still cold, loud and non-floating, so it really wouldn’t matter what kind of colouring had been chosen. For a newborn everything was different and strange and it was Blaine’s job to make this journey as atraumatic as possible.

‘The bathroom is through that door and there should be a hospital gown inside. So you can change, Miss Lopez,‘ Blaine instructed.

Santana hurried away leaving Kurt and him in the room alone surrounded by various birthing accessories. They glanced at each other awkwardly.

Blaine cleared his throat: ‘Well, how are you doing, Mr. Hummel?’

‘I’m fine,’ was all he got back. In his professional opinion Kurt didn’t seem fine at all, quite the opposite: he looked pale, tired and a little bit sad plus his worries were written all over his face.

Blaine tried again: ‘It’s perfectly natural for the father to have…’

‘I’m not the father,’ Kurt interrupted him harshly.

_Ok, thank you for ‘clearing that up’, but no reason to get rude. I’ve really had it with you, doesn’t matter how gorgeous you are,_ Blaine thought. He was getting frustrated with Kurt’s changing moods, so he chose to stay silent. Kurt seemed to ignore his presence focusing on his phone instead and typing from time to time.

Santana returned five minutes later. ‘Oh honey, that’s really not your colour,’ Kurt said eyeing the light blue gown with floral patterns. Cheerful and a little bit bitchy Kurt was back and all other emotions were buried behind that mask. ‘Excuse me, do you happen to have this dress in another colour? Something like devil-red?’ he asked in a way you would enquire something of a shop assistant.

‘I’m afraid we don’t. Our hospital’s spring collection is kept in light blue.’ Blaine replied which made Santana laugh. _At least one person thinks I’m funny._

‘Please lie down on this bed, Miss Lopez. I’ll make an ultrasound now, just making sure everything is in order.’ Blaine explained.

Santana climbed onto the bed with some effort. The stronger and more painful contractions were starting, you could see it. Her lips firmly pressed together and every other minute she would squinch up her face, eyes closed. Blaine pushed up her gown revealing her large stomach.

‘It might be a little bit cold,’ he warned her before squeezing some of the ultrasound jelly on her stomach. Santana didn’t even flinch.

Blaine got to work locating the different parts of the baby and talking more to himself than to the other two: ‘Ah… yes… very good… leading body part is the head… placenta firmly in place, no bleeding… umbilical cord free… approximate weight 7 pounds… approximate length 20 inches … and here we have the heartbeat,’ he said showing the rapidly beating, tiny heart in the picture. ‘Your baby seems to be very healthy and ready to greet the world.’

For a short time he let them smile at the picture, before he brought them back to reality: ‘Now I’ll fasten the CTG around your stomach and examine you vaginal, Miss Lopez.’

Kurt’s face at the word ‘vaginal’ was priceless. He blushed like a teenager and looked up to the ceiling. Blaine took a duvet and threw it over Santana’s legs. Kurt stayed right next to her head, obviously unable to decide where to look.

Blaine fought not to laugh while pulling on his gloves. ‘This might be a little bit uncomfortable.’ He reached inside and palpated for the cervical opening, trying to measure it with his fingers. ‘You are at about 3,2 inches… nearly fully dilated. Your water broke a bit early but nothing to worry about,’ he told them and slung the CTG-cord around Santana.

‘How long until I can start to push?’ she asked in distress.

‘First your cervix has to be fully open which means another 0,8 inches.’

‘So another hour of just waiting and being in pain?’ She did not look happy.

‘The time varies from woman to woman. It can take another hour or only 10 minutes. I could give you some pain killers?’ he offered.

‘NO, they always make me dizzy. I want to be clear-headed and able to remember the first time meeting my daughter’ Santana said.

‘That’s your decision of course. Have you already decided on which birthing technique you’d like to try?’ Blaine asked.

‘You have birthing technique options? … and I’ve always thought, there was just one way down.’ Kurt threw in unhelpfully. Blaine could hardly suppress rolling his eyes.

‘Yes, a woman has many options,’ he said, focusing back on Santana: ‘You can lie or sit on the bed, then there is the gymnastics ball or hanging on that rope or the wall bars over there. And last but not least the bathtub. Anything that might interest you?’

‘A bathtub? Are you kidding me? Sitting in bloody water… all kind of stuff floating around you? I think I’ll stick with the bed and just ‘enjoy’ myself here,’ she replied sarcastically.

Blaine had to laugh: ‘Ok, then I’ll leave you two alone for now. I’m just down the corridor on the left filling out some forms. Your CTG is transferred to a computer there… so don’t worry and you can always call me with the red button next to the door. Any questions?’

‘Any chance I’ll get a decent coffee around here?’

_For real Kurt? Your friend is in labour and your main concern is a good cup of coffee? I’m also not a goddamn waiter!_ Even Blaine with his never-ending patience was starting to get annoyed. So he just answered: ‘No… I’ll get you some water though.’ He turned around and left the room.

Kurt followed Blaine’s behind with his eyes. _Nice view. But a guy looking at lady parts all day… probably straight… what a waste that ass is on a straight guy._ Santana started to squirm on the bed again. _Here comes another one,_ Kurt thought feeling as helpless as before.

‘Santana, is there any way I can help you? Want to crush my hand? Tell you a funny story to distract you?’

‘Ahhhhh… maybe later. Perhaps a dirty story from your extensive adventures… I wouldn’t say no to that kind of story.’ She winked at him and Kurt had to laugh. Even in labour she was still Santana.

‘Nice try, but not even now. You really should rethink your pathological obsession with my sex life.’

‘It’s called taking an interest in other people’s lives,’ she said batting her eyelashes innocently.

‘Well… while we’re on that subject, I’ve reached your dear wife. She’s on her way back, driving as quickly as whale… what ever that means? She’ll be here in one and a half hour.’

Brittany was an elementary school teacher and it was just a bad coincidence that their baby decided to be born on the one night where she was away on a class trip to this farm just outside of New York.

Kurt reread Brittany’s message again: ‘…she wants me to tell you she’s very sorry, she loves you and thinks of you every second.’

To his surprise Santana didn’t seem to be too angry at her wife missing the birth of their daughter. Every other person would meet Snixx (Santana’s furious alter ego) from time to time, only Brittany didn’t. She was the biggest soft spot Santana had. Even now she just said: ‘Tell Britt I love her too and to drive safely like a whale.’

‘I’ll get right on that,’ Kurt promised typing away with high speed.

Twenty minutes later Blaine reappeared with three bottles of water in his hands and an icepack for Santana’s forehead. Now the contractions were merely one minute apart and Santana’s modesty had been long gone. She started to scream her pain away and had taken Kurt up on his offer to crush his hand.

‘I think it’s time to push but to be sure I’ll examine you again, Miss Lopez.’ Blaine explained.

‘Dear lord, stop calling me Miss Lopez. You’ve seen me naked so Santana is sufficient and bony ass over there is Kurt,’ she growled.

Kurt was quite offended to have his ass described as bony, but she was in labour so he forgave her.

Blaine finished the examination quickly: ‘Well, Santana and Kurt now there’s enough room for that little girl to come out.’

‘Thank god!’ they said in unison.

‘You’ll stay by her head, Kurt. Talk to her, offer her water… just be there for her. I’ll be down here monitoring the baby’s progress,’ Blaine instructed.

The bearing-down pains came and it was unlike anything Kurt had ever seen. It was kind of scary, Sanatana’s whole body contracted and she let out ear-piercing shouts. There was a short break where her mumbling something like ‘…why did I agree to this?... Britt would be better at this…’ could be heard and then the next contractions came, even worse than the last one. Blood was seeping through the bed sheets and Kurt felt more and more like he was witnessing a massacre.

After a few minutes: ‘Here comes the head,’ Blaine announced and Kurt (a tad bit curious) looked down for the first time and right there a tiny head with black hair appeared.

‘You’re doing so great! Just a little bit longer, come on you can do it,’ he tried to encourage an exhausted-looking Santana.

‘Kurt, I’m spent… I have no power left,’ she said with watery eyes, sweat dripping everywhere.

‘That’s not true. Santana I know you… you’re a force of nature. Of course you can survive these last contractions!’

‘I don’t know how…’

‘Santana, don’t give up! On the count of ten we’ll start again!’

‘Perfect,’ Blaine mouthed at Kurt and smiled. Both of them counted to ten and then Santana started to push again.

 It didn’t take long and the relieving cry of a little newborn baby girl was heard. Blaine cut the umbilical cord, wrapped her in a blanket and put her in Santana’s arms. Kurt stood behind Santana, both watching the little miracle in front of them with tears flooding their eyes.

This picture right there was the reason why Blaine loved his job. The pure happiness and wonder on people’s faces when seeing their child for the first time was indescribable. He got to experience these special moments in the lives of others nearly every day, got to support them through that journey and he loved it.

‘Want to breastfeed her?’ Blaine asked Santana smiling.

‘Yes, can you show me how?’

‘Of course, just put her into your arms like this,’ he said while maneuvering the baby, ‘and then she can latch on easily. Very good. Later you can use a breastfeeding pillow etc.’

‘Wow, that feels strange and god, now the cramps in my stomach start again.’ Santana looked a bit skeptical at the suckling baby.

‘That’s perfectly natural. Breastfeeding releases hormones that trigger contractions in your uterus. It’s actually very important for the birth of the placenta and it prevents blood-loss.’

Kurt still wasn’t able to talk. All he could do was to stare at the little girl, this little baby who was not only related to him, but also to his father and his long-lost mom. And yet, she would never truly be Kurt’s daughter. He had been afraid of this moment and being present at the birth of (in a way) his daughter only made it worse.

The bell to the delivery room rang again. Blaine excused himself and went to open the door. Before him stood a beautiful, but soaked in sweat blonde. _Maybe there’s a new sign outside the delivery room, only enter if you stepped right off a runway,_ Blaine thought.

‘Hey, my name’s Brittany Pierce. My wife should be here… Santana Lopez?’ the blond enquired.

Blaine’s eyes widened. _Santana’s wife?_ He needed a moment to process. Still he couldn’t help it and blurted out: ‘You’re her wife… that means the man with her, Kurt is...’

‘Our sperm donor and friend of course,’ she explained to him like a child who wouldn’t understand something incredibly simple.

‘Right… sorry. Come in, I’ll take you to them,’ Blaine said trying to get a grip on himself.

At the noise of the door opening Santana looked up and a huge smile spread across her face. She had been glowing since seeing her daughter for the first time but now pure happiness overtook her.

‘Britt, you’ve made it… come here look… there’s someone I want you to meet,’ she said.

‘I’m so, so sorry, Tana… I wish I had been here sooner, I…’she started to apologize.

But Santana interrupted her: ‘Not important right now, love. Just see… I’d like to introduce you to Kaley Lopez-Pierce.’

Brittany climbed onto the bed settling next to Santana with her head resting on her wife’s shoulder. The two women just sat there watching their daughter. Everything was peaceful.

Blaine began to rummage through Santana’s file searching for a specific piece of paper: ‘I’ve got to fill out the birth certificate for little Kaley now… ah here it is.’

‘So, could you spell her whole name please?’

‘K-A-L-E-Y L-O-P-E-Z   P-I-E-R-C-E’ Santana told him.

Blaine started to talk to himself again: ‘Date of birth: the 5th of June 2017… Place of birth: New York City… mother of the child: Santana Lopez… father of the child…’ he looked up unsure what to write down.

‘Unknown’ Santana said and went on to explain: ‘It’s what our adoption lawyer advised us to do.’

‘Ok...’ was all he responded. But he couldn’t help noticing that Kurt had been very quiet since Brittany’s arrival and at Santana’s last words Kurt had flinched a little bit. He tried to keep a neutral face but Blaine could see the sadness in his beautiful eyes.

Kurt cleared his throat: ‘Well, I’ll be on my way then. I’ve got to catch up on my beauty sleep,’ he attempted to joke.

Santana and Brittany looked up from their sleeping daughter. ‘Thank you for everything, you’ve done so much for us Kurt. Without you Kaley wouldn’t be here today and you helped me through these last hours. We’ll never be able to express how thankful we truly are.’

‘It’s alright,’ Kurt replied shortly with a dismissive hand gesture.

‘But there’s something we’d like to offer you in return. Should you ever find your one-and-only and wish to start a family with him, we would gladly 'lend' you one of our uteruses for free,’ Santana said.

Kurt was speechless, things were getting overwhelming. When he’d woken up this morning he had expected a lot of things, but not this. ‘Wow, thank you… I’ll keep that in mind,’ he answered unable to say anything else. He kissed first Santana and then Brittany on the cheek, spared one last glance at the baby and quietly left the room.

‘I’ve got to fetch a scale, a measuring tape and some warm water… I’ll be right back’ Blaine explained while exiting the room too, leaving the happy family behind.

His instincts were proven right when he found Kurt standing in the hall with his back turned to him. His shoulders were shaking and from time to time a soft cry could be heard. Blaine carefully touched Kurt’s shoulder and said: ‘Hey, it’s all right… do you want a hug?’

Kurt nodded and Blaine pulled him into his arms. He pressed him firmly against his broad chest while Kurt kept on sniffling against his neck. They stayed like that for some time not caring about the world around them. When Kurt’s cries had quieted down, Blaine released him from his embrace, now able to look him in the eyes: beautiful Kurt looked heartbroken. His eyes didn’t glow like before and his face was blotchy. Kurt returned Blaine’s gaze with a mixture of shyness and obvious embarrassment.

‘I’m so sorry’ Blaine told him. He didn’t know what else to say.

‘It’ll be okay. It’s just… right now it feels like losing a daughter… and trading it for being ‘Uncle Kurt’ isn’t much of a consolation,’ Kurt said in a broken voice.

‘Still want that decent coffee?’ Blaine tried to lighten the mood.

‘No thanks, I think I’ll just go home. Thanks for everything.’ And with these words Kurt turned around and left.


	3. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I've really struggled with this chapter but now it's finished :). Unfortunately first me and then my beta will be on vacation and I don't even have a computer there. So it'll be another 3-4 weeks until the next chapter. I'm really sorry, but I'll continue this, I promise.

It was 9 am the same day and the subway was packed with people - noisy people who didn’t mix well with Blaine’s exhaustion. All he could think about was his bed and he longed for the moment he could simply crawl under his soft comforter and pass out. But until then there were another twelve train stops to go, forcing him to inhale the smell of sweat from the young man standing in front of him and to keep on listening to the woman behind him, who was loudly discussing her relationship status on the phone. Young men being unable to use a shower - now that didn’t astound Blaine at all, but it had always puzzled him that people would speak about intimate matters, like their relationships, in such a public setting. _Where has people’s sense of privacy gone?_ _Did it just vanish the moment facebook was founded?_

Miraculously Blaine remained standing on his feet while dozing off on the ride. When his stop was called he pushed his way through the crowd… finally fresh air hit him.

Blaine lived in the suburbs of New York City. Traditionally it had been quite a posh neighbourhood (and for a few inhabitants that description might still fit) but today the majority were young couples with kids, therefore playgrounds were turning up on every street corner and there were more baby strollers than cars around. In this area Blaine was nearly the only person left without a child and in a radius of 10 feet he was THE ONE person being unmarried. It was safe to say that he didn’t quite fit in. The reason for Blaine living in this environment was simple, it hadn’t really been his own choice, but his most valued possession – his home- was here.

Originally the house had belonged to his grandfather, one of the few members of his family who still talked to him. In his will he had determined for the house to be passed on to Blaine. His parents hadn’t minded, after all they had received the fortune in his grandfather’s bank account and to them the ‘small, rotten and old house’ would have been more of a burden than a gift. They had always been unable to see its beauty.

On his salary as a midwife he never would have been able to afford it, therefore Blaine considered himself very lucky inheriting such a unique piece of land. He affectionately called it his ‘fairytale home’. It was an old brick house with an oriel and a rather large garden surrounding it. The windows were framed in dark blue wood and on every window board (without exception) flowers were blooming in every colour of the rainbow. Ivy had started to cover one corner of the front wall descending from the black roof. But Blaine’s favourite detail of the house were the three prominent chimneys scattered across its roof. The architect of the building had had to be a person with a special kind of vision as two out of the three chimneys were for decorative purposes only. The wild garden was separated from the outside world by a blue fence and a hedge, but it was still possible to see the house through the plants. In summer a few old trees cast a pleasant shadow on the grass and Blaine’s hammock that stretched between two stems. There he would read, dream and probably never leave if he’d be given the choice. Lilies and sunflowers were growing in no particular pattern around the house, there was merely one place were Blaine tried to maintain some kind of order: his vegetables and fruit. The garden was his main source for cooking ingredients and everything from pumpkins to raspberries he grew himself. Gardening in the summer could be a burden, especially in combination with his stressful job. Lately he had only managed to water the plants and after that there never had been any energy left to plant something new or cook a delicious meal. His everyday routines exhausted him and he felt a little bit stuck.

Nevertheless, when his beloved home came into view, Blaine (although extremely tired) felt joy. The house had always had this effect on him and he hoped it would never die away. Blaine’s home wasn’t new or fancy and there were parts which obviously needed repairing but it was also clear as day that this was a place where a person lived who took care of things with great love, paid attention to detail but still gave nature the freedom to spread.

As he entered the house Cleo, his beloved cat, greeted him demanding her daily cuddles and Blaine complied immediately. The interior of his house resembled a farmhouse, everything was practical but cozy. On the ground floor there was the living room with a fireplace, connected to an open kitchen, a small bathroom and a guest room. An old wooden staircase lead to the first floor with Blaine’s bedroom, a bathroom and three slightly smaller rooms. One of them was used as an office, the other one as a music room and the third for storage, where unimportant things collected dust and Cleo, being a sneaky cat, loved to hide in various boxes.

Blaine went upstairs, took a rushed shower and sent a short text to Megan:

To Meg: Hey, date night tonight? ;)

To Blaine: Yeah sure. 6pm?

To Meg: Looking forward to it!

Blaine closed the curtains of the bedroom to make sure that the bright sun wouldn’t wake him up in a few hours. Then he sunk between the deliciously fluffy sheets of his bed and within two minutes he had fallen asleep dreaming about two blue eyes looking at him from above and the press of another man’s body.

Blaine woke up a bit excited below the belt. Amused he looked down at his hard-on and thought: _I really don’t have time for you right now… please try again later._  It had been ages since he took care of… things but between his job, the garden and coordinating his calendar with Meg he just never had the time or the urge.

Meg was a nurse in OB-GYN and, fitting to her line of work, she was a very intelligent, strong, yet thoughtful person. They had met three years ago on a conference called ‘New trends in childbirth’ and from the first moment they had clicked. They had actually only been on three dates before they’d agreed to become a couple and their relationship had developed beautifully from there. Only recently things had been a little bit tense. The easiness was gone and everyday life seemed to overwhelm both of them, leaving hardly any time to pay attention to the other person. They didn’t fight or make accusations, they simply spent less and less time together, each living their own life separately.

After leaving his way too comfortable bed, Blaine started making dinner for Meg and him, a freshly picked salad with chicken and his homemade balsamico dressing. Meg showed up fashionably late as always. They ate outside on the terrace enjoying the last sunbeams of the day, did the dishes together and talked about the strangest patients they had encountered this week, just another evening in a normal couple’s life. Afterwards Megan lay across the couch, her head resting on Blaine’s legs. Some silly TV show was switched on but she had this expression on her face, telling Blaine that her thoughts were far, far away.

Out of the blue she asked: ‘I’ve been thinking. Do you want me to move in, marry me and have children?’

There are things that surprise you and there are things that shock you and Blaine didn’t feel surprised. He opened his mouth to say something, anything although he hardly knew his own thoughts at that moment, but his mouth wouldn’t work. He could only stare at Megan, feeling like a deer caught in headlight. Seconds on the clock passed and he expected her to get angry, to start a fight or alternatively to burst out laughing because she was only making fun of him, but she surprised him.

Her mouth twitched, but her eyes were serious and she kept on looking at him kindly. After another minute she said: ‘I don’t want to marry or have children with you either.’

A feeling started to emerge in Blaine’s stomach. He couldn’t identify it at first or maybe he didn’t want to admit it, but he felt relief. It washed over him like a huge wave and he was able to breathe again, leaving only one question: ‘So, you want to break up with me?’

‘Blaine, I love you and you are one of my favourite people on this planet. I love spending time with you, you are everything a girl or guy could hope for, but I just can’t imagine my happily-ever-after to be with you. I want a family someday but I can’t picture myself standing next to you in that scenario. And I’m not alone in thinking this way. You feel the same, you just can’t admit it to yourself yet.’

‘Err, have never really thought about it…’ Blaine mumbled trying to buy himself some time.

‘Blaine,’ Meg said with her earnest voice, ‘we both know that this thing between us... we’re more brother and sister than lovers. God, I can’t even remember the last time we had sex, can you?’

Blaine shook his head and she continued: ‘Please don’t get this wrong, I’m not breaking up with you because of that, I’m merely questioning our lack of interest in each other in that particular department. We’re 27 not 77.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me, if it bothered you that much?’ Blaine asked.

‘It didn’t bother me at all, I like talking, going to the movies and cooking with you. I prefer to not have sex with you and that’s what got me thinking… it doesn’t really seem right.’

Blaine’s head was spinning. In this moment he didn’t really know his own feelings. He wasn’t heartbroken, but at the same time he wasn’t glad. He didn’t need to cry but he didn’t feel much like smiling either. ‘So, what have we been doing the last three years?’ he asked.

‘Blaine, we’ve been together for three years. In my opinion there is a point in every relationship where you either decide to stay together for life, have a family… or you decide to break up. In our case it’s just a lot harder because we adore each other, we don’t even fight, we have no specific reason to break up other than neither of us wanting to spend the rest of our lives with each other,’ Meg reasonably replied.

The initial shock had faded by now and although unsure Blaine tended to agree with Megan: ‘Maybe that’s the unhappy truth.’

‘I’d think we’ll be better off as friends,’ she said, ‘and I don’t see why our friendship shouldn’t be as magical, if not more magical than our relationship. I’m quite certain that’s the way we’re supposed to be.’

‘I hope you’re right,’ Blaine simply answered. He wasn’t angry or anything, it was just that all these serious topics gave him a headache and he really wanted to be alone with his thoughts – to mourn and think about his own future.

‘I’ll be out of your hair now,’ Meg told him like she had read his thoughts or maybe she just knew him that well. She stood up and went to fetch her coat. Blaine followed her. At the door she turned around abruptly to say goodbye. They were standing so close looking each other in the eye. _Just one more time, to let go,_ Blaine thought and he closed the gap between them.

The kiss was nice, turning a little bit playful the longer it lasted. These weren’t two people kissing each other lustfully, desperate for the other one’s touch. No, they wanted to enjoy the closeness and familiarity between them one last time, a memory of their time together.

Blaine was the one to pull away and Megan seemed to agree. ‘I’ll call you sometime,’ she promised and left.

Blaine hardly got any sleep that night. It was a mild summer night and he stayed in his hammock looking at the stars, listening to the thoughtful music of Damien Rice and petting Cleo who, in contrast to him, was sleeping on his stomach. He did not only mourn the loss of Megan but the loss of the future their relationship could have held, that’s what saddened him beyond belief. Blaine was a dreamer… a dreamer who wanted things like a marriage, a family and kids, hopefully all living together in his fairytale home. Megan had been right: They weren’t meant to be and it was only logical to break up, but that took him further away from fulfilling his dream than ever before. After realizing that Blaine couldn’t stop the tears from falling and he spent a good portion of the night crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Blaine is listening to at night: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5YXVMCHG-Nk


	4. Interview

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm back. Hope you enjoy the next chapter.

Innovation in baking by Henry Caversham

We sat down with Kurt Hummel (28), professional baker and owner of ‘Café du monde’, which was founded by Quinn Fabray and him in 2015 and since then has acclaimed great recognition. ‘Café du monde’ is not only celebrated by critiques but also by the general public. It is a café for every cake, occasion and person… enter and your wishes will come true.

HC: Mr. Hummel, how did you get into baking?

KH: Baking and cooking has always been something deeply personal to me. My mom died when I was only 8 years old and baking a New York Cheesecake with her is one of the few memories I have left of her. Therefore each cake is in a way an attempt to remember my mom.

HC: When did you start to consider baking as a career path?

KH: Originally I planned to become an actor… I strived to be the next star on Broadway… thinking back, now I recognize my own naivety. I even got accepted into and graduated from NYADA. I auditioned for countless parts but the competition was fierce and I was constantly told that I’m too unusual to play the leading male roles… that really got to me. At the same time my beloved father got diagnosed with cancer and I started to travel back and forth between NYC and Ohio nearly every week. All in all, it was one of the most stressful times of my life and I needed some kind of outlet… I started to stress-bake a lot. It got a bit out of hand and in the end I was almost a better baker than actor. It only seemed logical to pursue the thing I really loved and was good at.

HC: How does Quinn Fabray fit into all of that?

KH: Quinn and I have known each other since high school. We weren’t the best of friends at that time but after I had finished NYADA we met by coincidence and I told her about my idea to open my own café. She had studied management and finance and had recently quit her job because she had noticed that working with numbers only, although quite successfully I might add, wasn’t for her. She missed meeting new people… communication on a personal level. Together we built our plan to open ‘Café du monde’. She managed all the things I was clueless about and I could focus on my baking.

HC: Why ‘Café du monde’… as far as I know it’s French and means Café of the world?

KH: I wanted the café as a place where people come together. Differences in nationality, religion or sexual orientation don’t matter in our little place. Tragically at the moment you feel like the whole world is fighting against each other and with the name of our café we just want to emphasize that this is a place for literally everybody… without prejudice or judgement. Quinn supports the idea behind it, although she found my proposed name a bit too theatrical in English but in French she could live with it.

HC: Speaking of the world, your café offers a great, international variety of cakes and desserts. How did you gain the expertise which enabled you to create all these different things?

KH: After the decision to pursue baking on a professional level I traveled a lot. I went to France, Austria, Russia, Turkey, India and countless other countries to meet with traditional bakers of different nationalities and to work with them. I spend two years abroad, learning about different techniques, desserts etc. Authenticity has always been of the utmost importance to me and it’s the reason for our success. We’re known for serving desserts from all over the world. A lot of people who immigrated to the US like and appreciate the café because our apfelstrudel, baklava or blini remind them of the home-made cakes their grandmothers used to bake and that’s the biggest compliment anyone could ever give us.

HC: The interior design of `Café du monde’ is quite elegant and at the same time simple. What were the thoughts behind creating it that way?

KH: Quinn and I had been searching for an appropriate location for a long time when we stumbled across this place. We immediately fell in love with it… the big windows facing the street, an old chandelier still hanging from the high ceiling, the ornaments on the walls and the little flat above, we couldn’t imagine it any better. The whole place needed intensive repairing which of course wasn’t cheap, but I decided to take that risk. Obviously the room that is now the kitchen, had to be changed quite a bit but in the main room we kept all of the original details and just added some modern elements like the furniture, the lamps and the bar. I don’t like heart-shaped candles, pink wall painting or roses everywhere you look. I think your description fits quite well: elegant but simple, that had been my goal and I wanted our customers to have different options not only concerning their drink and meal. They can choose whether to sit outside or inside or whether they want to have a formal meeting with chairs on a table or simply lounge on one of our couches.

HC: What does a normal day in Kurt Hummel’s life look like?

KH: I’m not a morning person, but I still get up at 5 am every day and go downstairs (comment from the editor: Kurt Hummel lives in the flat above his café). While powering my brain with coffee I go over the calendar for the day… missing desserts in the café and ordered cakes for weddings, birthdays… then I go to the local farmer’s market looking for seasonal fresh fruit and other potential ingredients. I prefer knowing where my milk, eggs and flour came from and the only way to produce high quality cakes is using high quality ingredients in the first place. At noon everything in the kitchen has to be finished because then the café opens, wedding cakes have to be delivered and new projects have to be planned. When the last guest has left (on most days that’s at something like 7 pm), my staff and me tidy up and clean the whole place. It’s not unusual for me to start baking again after that, sometimes until midnight because there is just no other way to finish everything on time.

HC: It can’t be easy to coordinate all of that. How many people work at ‘Café du monde’?

KH: The team consists of me as the main baker although I have one assistant and one trainee, two waitresses and Quinn who overviews the finances and coordinates our calendar. She also really enjoys spending time with the customers in the café… basically one could say she helps out wherever she can.

HC: It’s often said that in professional cooking there’s a strict hierarchy in the kitchen and the tone can be quite rough. Does that apply to your bakery as well? Do you consider yourself a leader?

KH: Well, I am the leader… my name is written on the board outside the café and on the mortgage papers for this place as well. Even with this few people working together, there needs to be a hierarchy in rank, otherwise a business like Quinn and mine’s couldn’t exist. Concerning my way of managing the café, as a chef I am always sincere and fair, I’ll tell you honestly when something’s good and when something’s bad.

HC: There are no Michelin stars in baking, but in 2017 (for the first time) your café climbed into the top ten of US bakeries named by a committee of food critiques. You’ve been busy giving interviews and there’s a rumor about you publishing your own book in the near future. Did you ever imagine your business would become as successful and recognized as it is now?

KH: I hoped it would be but nevertheless I was really surprised by the written critiques and the positive reviews it got from the customers. Now we just try to stay on top of things and meet the expectations set in us.

HC: Have you ever regretted choosing this path?

KH: No, never. I consider myself very lucky because I get to do something I really love. My work challenges my creativity every day and if I succeed it’ll make people happy. It’s very time-consuming but in the end it’s worth it.

HC: Thank you so much for taking the time for this interview and the best of luck to you.

 

‘You come across a bit formal and stiff,’ Quinn said and put the magazine down. It was early in the morning and she and Kurt had their usual coffee before another busy day of hard work started. They were half sitting, half lying on the couches in the main room of ‘Café du monde’.

‘The adjective you meant to use was sophisticated,’ Kurt corrected her, furrowing an eyebrow.

‘No, boss,’ she replied cheekily (she had never called him ‘boss’ outside of sarcasm), ‘the whole interview just seems impersonal and it lacks soul… your soul.’

‘Well, I prefer keeping some parts of my soul to myself, thank you very much and I negotiated with the magazine up front that any questions regarding my personal life would be prohibited. Maybe they should have interviewed you instead… maybe that would have been heart-warming enough for you,’ he bickered back.

‘Don’t get bitchy on me. I only say it the way I see it,’ Quinn explained, looking at him sharply and like nine out of ten times she succeeded in slowing Kurt’s anger down. It was a rare gift that caused a lot of envy among other people dealing with Kurt. He might be the name behind ‘Café du monde’ but Quinn was the boss behind closed doors: the person responsible that things were running smoothly, the only one who could keep Kurt in check and withstand his moods.

‘Sorry, you’re right, not the most eloquent interview I ever did. God, I’ve been tense lately,’ he complained, ‘I’ve got to get laid. It’s been too long.’

‘Too long in your universe probably means a week,’ she estimated.

‘Five days,’ he quietly admitted, eyes cast down because it was moments like that, in which he would remember his father speaking to him: _you matter_.

‘Five days without sex and you… you can’t be serious. Kurt, you’ve got a problem,’ Quinn firmly remarked.

_Here we go again_ , Kurt thought. Kurt’s sex life was a constant cause of disagreement between them. ‘Well excuse me, but I’m not going to apologize for frequently having sex… it’s my preferred way of relaxation and frankly I don’t see what business it is of yours.’

‘Normally I would butt out, but I’m really concerned about you. You’ve been working for two years straight, never sleeping more than five hours a night, never going on vacation… just never a moment of rest. Don’t forget, I see you every day and you are worn out. Hell, I spend more time with you than with my actual boyfriend. I know you, Kurt and you’re not just tense, you’re miserable and the bitchiness is your way of hiding those feelings from the world. You’ve been trying to fuck the sadness out of your life, but that won’t work.’

‘Quinn, I’m warning you… stop psychoanalyzing me,’ he said through gritted teeth.

‘So you’re not denying that you’re miserable?’ Quinn asked to make sure.

‘I wouldn’t use the word ‘miserable’… there just have been happier times in my life compared to now,’ he admitted.

_Well, at least he’s not fully denying it,_ she thought.

‘So, what now? As a solution you suggest taking away my last source of new energy too?’ Kurt questioned.

‘You honestly think these little fuck buddies you find on Grindr or at Bodylicious are anything more than a short distraction? You just fuck… no real intimacy and I doubt you’ve talked to one of them long enough to even know their names. Tell me, when was the last time you spoke to your real friends… Mercedes? Elliot?’ Quinn asked accusingly.

‘It’s been a while,’ Kurt said defensively, trying to avoid the real answer: truth was, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had talked to either of them. ‘You can’t blame me for not having seen Mercedes and Elliot for a while… both of them are hardly ever in New York. In my defense I’ve been meeting Santana and Brittany sometimes.’

‘Yeah, because you’re their sperm donor and Santana is a force of nature… she just jumps into your life. Even you can’t prevent running into her from time to time,’ Quinn concluded: ‘So that doesn’t really count. You need a real friend, someone you trust, can spend time with and someone who’s able to persuade the workaholic that you are to leave the kitchen for an evening and simply go to the cinema, a concert or a new restaurant.’

‘Well, there’s always you,’ Kurt countered.

‘I don’t count either, honey. I happen to work with you, we are colleagues and I bet big money that there are things we disagree on, that you’re longing to complain about to someone else,’ she said with a knowing smirk.

‘Ok, you’ve got a point, but where do you want that friend to magically appear from?’ Kurt asked, skepticism plainly in his voice. He met a lot of new people every day but always in a professional setting which left no room to form any personal connection, as he once had sworn to himself to never mix business with pleasure… because in the end that would always be bad for business.

‘Oh, I’ve been doing some research: Grindr isn’t the only gay dating website in existence. There are many different options and an astoundingly high percentage of them has a button which says ‘looking for…’. I don’t see why you couldn’t just write down ‘looking for friend to go to the cinema, concerts etc.’ there?’

Kurt couldn’t stop himself from laughing: ‘You want me to look for a ‘cultural companion’ on a website where the first thing people ask you is your age and the size of your dick?’

‘Well, I’ve been able to find some alternative websites and I’d like you to try it,’ she replied patiently.

‘I’m not convinced, Quinn. Sounds like a lot of unnecessary work for me and no reward in the end. I think I prefer sticking with anonymous sex.’

‘Would you just try it, please,’ she said with pleading eyes, ‘I truly am concerned about you and I’m sure a cultural instead of a fuck buddy would do you good.’

_She just can’t stop nagging… fine, I give up._ ‘Ok, I’ll give it a try, but please leave me alone after this. Promise me that in the future you’ll butt out of my love life.’

‘I promise and now tell me everything about little Kaley,’ Quinn requested smilingly and Kurt began to recount the events of the night two days ago, starting with the strange spectacle of birth and finishing with the little miracle called Kaley.


	5. Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I'm so sorry it took me that long to continue with this story. Work has been crazy, but I promise I'll keep on writing I just don't know how long it'll take me to come up with the next chapters. I'll try to be as quick as possible!!!  
> Thanks for your support/kudos/comments... they're great encouragement and a big thank you to my Beta.

Blaine had been moping around for three days. The break-up was still hanging above his head like a dark cloud and although these were his days off from work, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave his hammock and do something productive. Right now he was flicking through last month’s issue of some dryly written medical journal that had brought him to the edge of sleeping, when suddenly his phone started to ring:

To Blaine: Bodylicious with Wes, Nicky and me tonight?

To Blaine: Time to get those rusty hips moving :p

‘Bodylicious’ was a popular gay club in the Village where Nick and Jeff went to dance from time to time. It had quite a reputation for only minimal clothing, easy sex and drugs. Until now Blaine had always refused to join his friends but today he felt a bit adventurous and he needed some distraction, so he responded:

To Jeff: I’m so gonna regret this, but I’ll be there!

To Blaine: You’ll come!? Nicky, hand me a tissue… our bisexual baby’s growing up at last.

To Jeff: Have to correct myself… I feel instant regret.

To Blaine: Come on Blainey, it’ll be awesome.

To Jeff: Awesomeness is subjective.

To Blaine: Doesn’t matter… see you at 9 pm, we’ll pick you up by taxi.

To Blaine: Resistance is futile!

The geek in Blaine purred and after long consideration he regretfully left his hammock. He went into the house lacking any enthusiasm and climbed up the stairs. In his bathroom he stood in front of the mirror eyeing his appearance critically: his hair was a nest of unruly curls, he had dark bags under his eyes from sleep deprivation and his sweatpants were stained with different coloured food collected over the course of the last three days. _If there’s supposed to be any chance of me looking hot tonight I’ll better go shower,_ he concluded and stepped under the warm spray. The water against his skin felt wonderful and it brought life back to his body. He just stood there lost in his own thoughts until time caught up with him as the water turned cold and hit him without any warning. He quickly stepped out of the shower, slung a deliciously fluffy towel around his hips and went into his bedroom. _Clothes… I need clothes._ Blaine began rummaging through his closet looking for something tightly fitted yet comfortable, but today nothing seemed to fit the bill. In the end he decided to just go with  snug, black jeans and a grey V-neck that had ‘T-rex hates push-ups’ written on it  next to a picture of a dinosaur that had arms much too short to reach the floor. Yes, the shirt emphasized his nerdy side but it did wonders for his chest and biceps.

Blaine was trying (in vain) to tame his curls with a healthy amount of gel when a car honked outside. _Must be the boys… god, I could just stay here, reading a book… Come on, Blaine… try something new, something exciting!_ Blaine’s adventurous half of the brain said.

DING

His phone informed him of an incoming massege, interrupting his thoughts effectively.

To Blaine: If our lives were a movie, tonight would be called ‘Three gays and a straight boy’… so we’re still missing a gay one!

To Jeff: I’m bisexual and there already are movies titled like that… most of them are porn.

To Blaine: I know… Nicky and I even watched that one ;)

To Jeff: Really didn’t need to know that.

To Blaine: It was better than expected. Ready to come outside and join us, Prince Dapper?

To Jeff: On my way…

Blaine checked his appearance once in the hallway’s mirror, put on his black leather jacket, closed the door and walked to the car waiting in front of his driveway. One of the car’s doors was opened and a widely smiling Jeff got out and flew into his arms.

‘I’ve missed you so damn much. It seems like forever since I last saw you,’ Jeff said pouting at Blaine.

‘It’s been two weeks Jeff… but I’ve missed you too,’ Blaine admitted while ruffling through Jeff’s hair.

In the meantime Nick and Wes had left the car as well and now stood beaming in front of Blaine.

‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d totally get jealous of your bromance,’ Nick remarked, hugging his friend after Jeff.

‘Good to see you man,’ Wes said, greeting Blaine with a brotherly slap to the back.

‘So straight,’ Blaine complained with an eye-roll, wincing slightly.

‘Shall we get this show on the road?’ Jeff asked bouncing with excitement. Blaine loved his friend’s enthusiasm. Jeff rarely did anything that he wasn’t totally thrilled about and he could gush for hours over things he liked.

The other three answered him with unintelligible murmurs which seemed to be all the agreement he was going to get. So, he ushered them to the car and they were off to the club.

‘Well Wes, what kind of guy are you looking for tonight?’ Jeff asked with fake innocence.

‘Well, you know, I’m actually looking for a nice couple of guys this fine evening… one of them sweet and quiet while the other one deems himself rather funny asking silly questions. Would you happen to know someone matching my description?’ Wes made sure to emphasize the word ‘couple’ and kept on batting his eyelashes at Jeff and Nick.

‘Oh Wesley, I’m touched you’ve thought of us. Tell me exactly, how did you imagine this little ménage-à-trois would be going? I’ve always thought of you as more of a bottom, where do you think your preferences lie?’

Wes spluttered. Jeff liked getting him flustered and blushing like a teenage schoolboy. Don’t get him wrong, he loved the fact that Wes was one-hundred percent comfortable with accompanying them on their nights out, not every straight guy would do that, but he still enjoyed teasing him.

‘Well,’ Wes said pretending to think,‘ my preference would probably depend on the size of your dick.’

‘Oh Wesley, you really… ‘

‘I think that’s enough sharing of information for now’ Nick interrupted them, ‘there are still some things I’d like to keep between you and me, Jeffy,’ he affectionately whispered to his boyfriend and started kissing him soundly on the mouth.

‘Hey guys, no prolonged PDA before the third shot, you promised,’ Wes reminded them and the couple regretfully ended their make-out session.

‘Sorry, Wesley, but you’ll have to get used to this if you want that threesome to happen,’ Nick cautioned, which made Wes groan in frustration.

Their bickering went on the entire drive with Blaine mainly staying quiet, still caught up in his own thoughts.

The queue in front of ‘Bodylicious’ wasn’t long and soon the four of them entered the club. It was not anything Blaine had never seen before. There was a huge dance floor with flashy lights and loud music with a turned up bass, a bar on one side of the room and on the opposite side there were three doors, one leading to a second dance floor and another to the bathrooms that were more often used for sex and drugs than to fulfill their original purpose. The third door led to a backroom where people could hook-up in case all the toilette cabinets were occupied. Blaine was not the voyeuristic type, so that was a door he would most likely never cross.

They were mhalfway through their first cocktail when Nick noticed carefully: ‘Not to complain, but you don’t seem to be your usual chipper self this evening. Is everything all right?’

‘Ah,… no, not really… Megan and I broke up three days ago.’

All three of his friends looked at him with eyes wide open, shock written all over their faces.

‘Blaine, I’m so sorry. What happened? You know, you didn’t really have to come… you could have just laid sulking in your hammock with us three there trying to cheer you up.’ Jeff knew about his passionate feelings towards his hammock.

Blaine smiled at his friend: ‘No, it’s alright, the change of scenery will do me good. Besides, it gave me a good reason to shower for the first time in three days.’

Nick unconsciously scrunched up his nose a bit.

‘But why did you break up? You’ve been together a long time, I always assumed you would simply get married, build a house, have a couple of kids…’ Wes asked curiously.

‘Of course, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,’ Nick added while giving Wes a friendly punch to the shoulder. In his nosiness he tended to forget what his parents taught him about being polite.

‘Ah, it’s kind of difficult to explain… she thought that we just didn’t click and she couldn’t imagine herself growing old with me. She’s aware that we love each other but in her opinion it’s not in that passionate, being-in-love way and that we’re better off as friends. So she broke up with me,’ he quoted her words in a dull voice while he fiddled with the straw in his glass trying to lift one of the sunken ice cubes. He could not bring himself to look into any of his friend’s eyes.

‘And how do you feel about things?’ Jeff inquired.

‘Thinking about it… I guess she was right in doing so, but it still came as a surprise to me and it still hurt. I shared the last three years of my life with her, you know… and it’s difficult to suddenly imagine myself without her, not talking to her every day. I think that in the end she did us both a favor… there probably never would have been a reason for us to break up and we simply would have stayed together out of convenience… though sooner or later we both would’ve known that we were never really meant to be… and I believe I prefer the heartache and searching for a new partner now than 20 years down the road with three kids in a messy divorce,’ Blaine replied sadly.

‘Wow, that’s really sensible, especially coming from a guy that broke up with his longtime girlfriend three days ago.’

‘Well, I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?’ Blaine admitted a little bitterly,’ I just hope I’ll meet my person one day… like Nick and you.’

‘Of course you will, Blaine. I’m sure of it,’ Jeff said looking him firmly in the eyes, ‘and if we’re lucky your someone will be a gorgeous guy and you’ll be back to the gay side of things,’ he added humorously, lightening up the atmosphere and all four of them started to giggle and took a shot in honor of all the available men in this world.

‘So, a little rebound tonight?’ Jeff asked wiggling his eyebrows, ‘Wes is available and ready for action.’

Blaine couldn’t help laughing and his depressed mood started slowly to disappear.

‘I’ve never been the rebound type, although Wes is looking particularly dashing tonight,’ he said winking at Wes.

‘If I turn gay, you’ll be the first to know,’ Wes said while kissing his friend’s cheek.

‘Oh, group hug,’ Jeff yelled and seconds later Blaine found himself tangled between three pairs of arms all trying to embrace him at the same time.

The four of them continued to enjoy themselves, dancing with each other in multiple pairings or occasionally with a nice stranger and sometimes retreating to the bar for another alcohol-based drink of their choosing. Blaine could feel the happiness sweeping back to him or maybe it was just the booze messing with his brain.

Right now Wes had disappeared to explore the second dance floor (although Jeff was convinced that he secretly wanted to find a guy to make out with, but that was mostly wishful thinking). Blaine danced a bit further away from the other two. He looked fondly at his both friends. Nick and Jeff were dancing in their own world unfazed by the nearly naked men jumping around them. Their fronts were pressed closely together, their noses only milimetres apart and their eyes were mostly closed. Knowing the other one so well, eye contact wasn’t needed to coordinate their dancing. Over the years they had started to always move unconsciously towards each other in a certain way and by now it was like second nature to them. They would only open their eyes from time to time and exchange a look of total adoration. Their devotion and closeness was visible to anyone in the room and they were the embodiment of everything that Blaine hoped to share with another person one day. Unwillingly his thoughts went back to Megan and their failed relationship and Blaine’s eyes were beginning to shimmer from tears. _Damn alcohol… always makes me even more emotional,_ he cursed. He hastily wiped them away with his hands and spun around to prevent his friends from witnessing his emotional outburst.

Blaine froze.

Right in front of him stood Kurt Hummel. Gorgeous looking as ever but a lot less put together than at their first meeting. His clothes were wrinkled and his hair was sticking out in various directions. But what really worried Blaine was Kurt’s behavior: he seemed to be drunk beyond belief, uninhibited, struggling to stay on his feet and on the edge of consciousness. Kurt’s gaze zoomed in on his and a mischievous grin overtook his face.

‘Hey Sexy, my name’s Karl,’ he said stumbling towards Blaine.

_Karl? Did he seriously just introduced himself as Karl…,_ Blaine asked himself, _he gave me a god damn wrong name. He doesn’t seem to remember me at all._

‘Hey Karl,’ Blaine said, emphasizing the name, ‘I’m Blaine. Can I help you?’

‘Well, yes Sexy. You could accompany me to the bathrooms over there and then make yourself useful on your knees.’

Blaine’s eyes grew big and his mouth opened in disbelief. He was not the kind of guy who appreciated such frankness. It made him feel like a piece of meat and in his opinion it was simply rude to talk to people that way. On the other hand he knew that right now Kurt was drunk beyond belief and it didn’t seem to be the right time to discuss moral principles.

‘I doubt your current state suffices for any kind of the action you suggested, Kurt,’ he made sure to stress the name at the end.

‘Well darling, your doubts are un… un… unfounded,’ he slurred, not picking up on the change of names, ‘I have it on pretty good authority that even wasted I’m still a fantastic lover.’

Blaine rolled his eyes. He was getting more and more annoyed by the second. If he had not met Kurt before he simply would have left at that point, but due to their brief encounter a few days prior he could not help feeling a little bit responsible for the well-being of the other man.

Also, tiredness had started to spread in his mind, so he looked at his watch: it was past 2am. He decided to just call it a night and to calm his inner consciousness he would take Kurt with him and drop him off on his way back home provided the other man was still capable of remembering his own address.

Under false pretenses he asked: ‘Kurt… ah Baby,’ he corrected himself clumsily,’ where do you live? I wanna go back to yours.’

Kurt’s eyes lit up with excitement: ‘Just a few blocks down… not far from here… you on board, Sexy?’

‘Ah yes,’ Blaine answered awkwardly, ’just have to say good-bye to my friends, so they won’t worry.’

He looked around searching for any sign of his three buddies. He spotted them on the other side of the dance floor and gestured for Kurt to follow him. After a couple of steps he felt someone stumble into him from behind. It was Kurt who seemed to have lost his balance. Blaine slung his arm around Kurt’s waist unwillingly to keep him upright while they made their way across the room.

Jeff was the first to see them and he quickly started to direct the other one’s attention towards their friend having a handsome guy glued to his side. All three of them grinned mischievously at him and Blaine instantly released his grip around Kurt which left the other one standing rather unstably on his own feet.

‘Wow, nice catch, Blainey,’ Wes commented loudly, holding out his hand for a fist-bump… _so hopelessly straight_ , Blaine thought while ignoring his friend.

He already knew that no one would believe him: ‘I’m just helping him to get home safely,’ he at least tried to explain.

‘Is that what we are calling it these days? You take that Adonis back to your castle, Prince Dapper!’ Jeff said winking at him in a rather obnoxious way.

‘Stop making fun of my fairytale-home, Jeff,’ Blaine snapped, ‘and we are not…’

‘We’re actually going back to mine,’ Kurt interrupted him.

_Oh, great… he’s a chatty drunk as well, now I’ll be reminded of this until the day I die,_ Blaine thought and to support his assumption: Jeff, Nick and Wes all started to wolf-whistle immediately.

‘Well, that’s our cue to leave. I’ll see you around, have fun!’ He just wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible, not giving them more opportunities to embarrass him any further. He once again took hold of Kurt and started to walk towards the club’s exit while ignoring Jeff’s call-me-tomorrow gesture. _Thank god, it’s a warm summer night, so we don’t have to stop again to fetch our coats or anything._

Once outside Blaine hailed a taxi and in no time they were both seated on the back seat. Kurt gave the taxi driver his address and they were on their way.

Now, what Blaine hadn’t anticipated was that this quick drive would challenge his self-control in the most agonizing way he had ever experienced, thanks to the great Kurt Hummel. Kurt constantly pushed himself into Blaine’s left body side and although nearly unconscious, he would not stop whispering the most suggestive and filthy things into his ear while his hands kept roaming across Blaine’s body, even occasionally sneaking up his inner thigh towards his groin. Blaine could not help but be affected by Kurt’s actions and who could blame him? After all Kurt was an extremely good-looking guy who was eager to spend the night with him. Blaine’s heart was pounding in his chest, the words whispered against his sensitive neck made him shiver and his breaths came out harsher than usual. In another setting this situation would have felt like a dream come true but circumstances prevented him from particularly enjoying himself beyond the more primal instincts of his body. Drunk Kurt seemed to have lost all control over his own actions (plus he came across like a superficial jerk) which caused Blaine to worry and suppress any kind of attraction he might have felt for the other man. To make things easier for himself he tried to push Kurt away, just to give him some space, but Kurt wouldn’t budge.

The taxi driver stopping the car made Blaine sigh in relief: this ended his distracting proximity to Kurt. He paid for the ride and then maneuvered his wasted companion out of the car. They stood in front of a lovely-looking bakery - ‘Café du monde’ was written above the front door. Blaine vaguely remembered having read something about that place in a magazine before and made a mental note to try it out sometime in the near future, but right now there were more pressing matters: ‘Where’s your flat?’

‘It’s right there, Sexy,’ Kurt answered gesturing with his finger towards the windows right above the café.

‘Great, where’s the entrance? Hope you haven’t lost your keys during the night.’

‘Easy tiger, no need to be impatient,’ Kurt said misjudging the situation,‘ just through the café and up the stairs.’ Meanwhile he started to walk or rather stumble towards the entrance of the café.

‘Your flat is connected to ‘Café du monde’?’ Blaine asked skeptically. He wasn’t sure whether drunk Kurt was serious or simply wanted to make fun of him.

Drunk Kurt looked at him like he was extremely slow: ‘Of course, I damn well own the café!’ and then he started to fumble with the key.

Blaine was astonished. Of all the jobs he could imagine Kurt Hummel having, being the owner of this warm-looking and slightly famous café was not one of them. While Blaine still stood there in surprise, Kurt had managed to open the door: ‘You gonna come with me, Sexy?’ he said with a seductive wink over his shoulder and then entered the café.

Blaine followed him, but due to the darkness he could only make out shades of the interior. He really had to come back here and have a look at things in broad daylight. Kurt’s hand found his and he led him up the stairs to his bedroom. Kurt had no patience to turn on the lights or anything he just took a few steps towards Blaine and began kissing him while pulling on the other man’s clothes trying to get them off as fast as possible.

‘Kurt…’ Blaine tried getting the other one’s attention, but he was unsuccessful. ‘Kurt…’ Kurt still continued sucking hickeys into his neck ‘KURT…’ Blaine nearly shouted while grabbing the other man’s hands and not letting them go. Now Kurt caught on.

‘What?’ he whispered a little confused.

‘Kurt, I really don’t want to have sex with you tonight,’ Blaine said firmly.

Kurt’s face fell making him look vulnerable and much younger than before: ‘You don’t find me attractive? But in the club you said… you said you wanted me.’

‘I think you’re insanely attractive, but you’re also insanely drunk and unable to make any consensual decision and as great as having sex with you must be, I really don’t want you to wake up in the morning, unable to even remember my name and pushing me out of the door before anyone sees me. I am not gonna be that guy. I am, however, the guy who hardly knows you and still brings your wasted ass back home safely, who then will put a glass of water and some paracetamol on your bedside table, just because he is that nice of a guy,’ he finished smiling.

‘Okay,’ was the only answer Kurt gave him. He then started to undress himself, nearly falling over while struggling to get out of his skintight jeans but Blaine caught him before he could damage his ridiculously beautiful face. He helped Kurt extracting himself from his trousers which resulted in him kneeling in front of Kurt who was merely dressed in an extremely snug pair of black boxer briefs. _I really should start thinking before doing things,_ Blaine thought not for the first time that night _._ He tried not to stare at what was right in front of him but he failed spectacularly.

‘Changed your mind?’ Kurt asked with a mischievous smirk. Drunk Kurt was back.

‘No?’ Blaine said in what sounded more like a question than an answer.

‘That’s fine,’ he replied while getting into his own bed,’ wanna come snuggle with me?’ Blaine thought he’d misunderstood, had Kurt Hummel really just used the word ‘snuggle’?

‘Please want you to cuddle with me, pretty please!’ Kurt repeated once more. He looked so innocent staring up at Blaine with his big green eyes. No one would think that this sweet man was capable of propositioning anyone to blow him in a club’s bathroom. Blaine shook his head, deeming cuddling far too close to not be led into temptation.

Kurt looked hurt.

As a compromise Blaine sat next to him on the bed and started stroking his hair. ‘That feels nice,’ a sleepy Kurt mumbled closing his eyes.

Blaine looked down at the other man who had curled up like a cat under his blanket leaving only parts of his head visible. ‘Have we met before? ... seem familiar…’ Kurt asked nearly inaudibly.

‘Yes, we have but I don’t think you remember…,’ Blaine whispered with a gentle voice.

A few minutes passed without Kurt showing any kind of reaction towards his words. Blaine looked down at him: Kurt seemed to be deep asleep. Therefore he stood up and quietly left the room to finally go home to his own bed.


End file.
